


Blood on Pavement

by introvertandproud



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Parent David Rossi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/introvertandproud/pseuds/introvertandproud
Summary: In hindsight, it’s probably best to avoid steep drop offs when confronting serial killers. Not only was it a thirty foot drop that would almost certainly result in death or serious injury, but there wasn’t even a railing to prevent against such incidents.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & David Rossi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 383





	Blood on Pavement

In hindsight, it’s probably best to avoid steep drop offs when confronting serial killers.

Spencer hadn’t given it a second thought when he had taken off up the stairs in pursuit of the UnSub with a shout of “Rossi, he’s headed to the roof!” into his comms. He became hyperaware of the ever-nearing edge from the moment he burst through the stairwell door onto the rooftop only to be tackled from the side and watch his gun skid out of reach. Not only was it a thirty foot drop that would almost certainly result in death or serious injury, but there wasn’t even a railing to prevent against such incidents.

Spencer quickly rolled onto his stomach as his attacker tried to wrap his hands around his throat. He crawled forward, finding purchase in the gravel covering the rooftop. The UnSub grabbed at him, but Spencer flipped onto his back and kicked out, catching him in the face. The UnSub reeled back and Spencer scooted back on his hands and the heels of his Converse. 

His heart nearly stopped when his hand found open space rather than gravel and he lurched to the side to avoid a particularly gruesome death. Besides, of all the ways for an FBI agent to die in the line of duty, falling off of a roof while crawling away from an UnSub was pretty far from heroic.

The UnSub, his nose now bloody, got to his feet at the same time as Spencer. The latter spotted his gun lying in the gravel several feet away, but unfortunately, so did the former. Each man spared a glance towards the other before making simultaneous dives for the weapon.

Two sets of hands grasped the gun just as the stairwell door swung open once again to reveal David Rossi, gun raised. Spencer wrestled the UnSub for the gun, getting to his knees for leverage while the killer stayed on his stomach. He saw Rossi take aim, but quickly abort his shot as the UnSub suddenly threw himself into Spencer, sending them both several feet backwards into...

Nothing.

He felt himself slipping over the edge of the roof and the UnSub and the gun where immediately forgotten as mind-numbing terror gripped Spencer’s heart. He heard his name being shouted and caught a fleeting glimpse of Rossi running toward him before his feet left the edge and he was falling.

Time seemed to slow as the roof got further and further away and the air rushed past him. Memories flooded his mind and Spencer wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about your life flashing before your eyes as you die.

_ We want you to be Henry’s godfather. _

_ Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital. _

_ Come on, you and me, we’re hitting the town. _

_ You are making a difference, you know, one person at a time. _

_ As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification. _

_ Well done, Agent Reid. _

Scenarios ran through Spencer’s mind as well. Rossi cradling his broken body when the team arrives on the scene. Emily and Hotch crying. JJ sobbing. Morgan yelling. One of them would have to tell Garcia...

Spencer pushed those horrible images from his mind. He wouldn’t die thinking them. He recalled the last time they were all happy together, focused on each of their faces, memorizing their features. Spencer shut his eyes and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. The hard, unforgiving ground rushed up to meet him, and his body hit the pavement with a horrible sound. Spencer barely registered the pain before the blackness overtook him.

•••

Pain was the first thing that Spencer registered when he regained consciousness. It seemed to radiate from his whole body at first. It was only after the initial shock of waking in agony had passed that the pain settled into four areas. His head, which felt like it was in a vice; his chest, which felt as though he was breathing broken glass, and his left arm and right leg, which were without a doubt badly broken. The second thing he registered was that he was alive to feel all of it. He had survived.

Had his brain been in full working order, Spencer may have wondered about that, or maybe even marveled at it, but his head was too overwhelmed with pain signals to perform such actions. He may not have been able to ponder his own survival, but his logical brain still knew one thing to be true: it wouldn’t last.

The pain in his chest was the most telling. It almost certainly meant broken ribs, and broken ribs meant punctured lungs. He would drown in his own blood.

Sound was filtering into his consciousness, but it was like hearing it from underwater. Nevertheless, Spencer could still make out the words.

“This is SSA Rossi, I have an agent down. I need medics to my location, now!”

Rossi was radioing for help. That was good. Maybe then he would have a fighting chance.

“Help’s on the way, kiddo. You’re gonna be alright.”

Rossi’s voice sounded wrong. It was shaky and sounded... scared? Out of all the members of their team, Rossi was the most steady under pressure. He didn’t get scared. Spencer found it unsettling to hear him in such a way.

There was a pressure on his hand, the one not connected to his mangled arm. The pressure wasn’t painful, it was gentle but firm, and Spencer took comfort in it. It was grounding.

Rossi was still talking to him.

“Spencer, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

So Rossi was holding his hand. That was nice. Spencer appreciated that. He wanted him to squeeze it. That was easy. He could do that.

His hand wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t it move? Was he really so weak from his injuries that he couldn’t even move his intact fingers? Spencer tried harder and felt a surge of triumph as his fingers curled slightly inward.

Rossi let out a breath that sounded like a combination of a laugh and a sob.

“There you are.” He brought Spencer’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “There you are,  _ caro _ .”

Rossi’s voice was steadier now. Not by any means calm but a vast improvement to how he had sounded moments before. He carded his fingers through Spencer’s hair.

“Can you show me those eyes, now?”

Spencer opened his eyes, but wait... Why couldn’t he see anything? Maybe he hadn’t opened them after all.

Rossi cupped his cheek.

“There’s those big puppy eyes. Damn things could make Strauss melt.”

What? He had opened his eyes? Then why couldn’t he see anything? Was he blind? Had he survived the fall just to lose his sight? Would he die in darkness?

Panic bubbled up in Spencer’s stomach and he tried to take a deep breath to calm himself.

That was a mistake. The air caught in his throat and he coughed. Pain shot through his chest, sending spasms into his limbs. His other injuries flared agonizingly. His scream came out as a hacking cough and something warm splattered onto his chin.

“Oh god,” Rossi muttered.

More blood was in his throat. It was coming up with each cough, but it wasn’t clearing. He couldn’t breathe. Tears of pain and fear welled in Spencer’s eyes.

Rossi was still stroking his hair.

“Sh, sh, Spencer, it’s okay. Just relax.”

There was an edge of panic in his voice now that betrayed his soothing words. Rossi was trying to keep himself together for Spencer’s sake, but it didn’t take a profiler, even a gravely injured one, to see that he was unraveling.

Breathing was impossible. The pain was dizzying. Exhaustion was settling into his body, Spencer knew that any second now, he would succumb to the weariness, willingly or unwillingly. He would probably stop breathing, and eventually his heart would stop as well. And that would be it.

Rossi would probably try CPR, but it wouldn’t work. You can’t force air into lungs that can’t hold it anymore. Maybe the paramedics would arrive in time and use the defibrillator on him. Maybe they could prolong his life a few more moments. But they couldn’t save him. One way or another, his story would end right here on this pavement.

Dr. Spencer Reid, killed in the line of duty.

His picture would be up on the Wall of Heroes. His teammates would pass it everyday.

His mother would be notified. Hotch would probably tell her and maybe Rossi would join him. Spencer had made enough death notifications to be able to imagine her reaction. Without him, she would be all alone.

His team would be a mess. 

Rossi would blame himself. He would think he somehow failed to save him and the guilt would destroy him. 

Hotch would also feel responsible simply because he felt responsible for Spencer.

Morgan would be angry. Angry at the UnSub for causing his death, at Spencer for dying, at the world for taking him away, angry at everything.

JJ would be inconsolable. Her best friend and the godfather of her child taken so suddenly and without warning.

Garcia would be in denial. She would refuse to believe that Spencer’s light could be so easily extinguished.

Emily would try to compartmentalize her grief and remember Spencer as he was, but she would never forget the image of his broken body lying on the pavement.

Spencer didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave his mother or his team behind. But that was out of his control.

Sirens blared in the distance.

“You hear that, kiddo? Help’s almost here. Just hang on.”

Hanging on was hard. Spencer’s coughs were getting weaker and his eyelids felt like lead.

“No, no, no, keep those eyes open. Look at me! James, look at me!”

Did Rossi just call him James? Spencer must have been delirious.

“Just keep squeezing my hand, please, James. Stay with me.”

Spencer didn’t have the energy to keep up the effort of squeezing Rossi’s hand. He was just so tired.

Maybe it was Spencer’s awareness slipping, but Rossi’s voice sounded strangled, like he was crying. The only time Spencer had ever seen Rossi cry was when Emily had “died”. He guessed that meant that Rossi knew he was dying, too. Hopefully he could find a way to move on.

_ I’m really sorry, Rossi. _

Spencer let his hand go limp and let the sounds of the approaching sirens and Rossi’s voice begging him to stay with him fade away into nothing.

Spencer didn’t like nothing. He felt lonely and cold. He wasn’t ready to die. He didn’t want to die! He was scared. He wanted to go back. He wanted to see his family again. He didn’t want to die...

•••

The next time that Spencer woke was not at all like the last. He was lying on soft sheets rather than hard pavement. Instead of unbearable pain, he felt fuzzy but comfortable.

There was one thing that was the same, though. He was somehow, inexplicably, still alive.

Spencer opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to several IVs and machines. His arm and leg were in bulky casts. A heart monitor was beeping out a healthy rhythm at his side. The walls of his room were grey, but the space was comfortably furnished and sparsely decorated. Wait... He could see! He wasn’t blind!

Spencer closed his eyes and let out a small, quiet laugh.

“Spencer?”

Spencer opened his eyes and turned his head toward the voice. Rossi was sat in a chair by his bedside, watching him with a hopeful gaze.

Spencer smiled.

Rossi smiled back in relief and stood. He took Spencer’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead hard.

Spencer let himself melt into the contact. He never realized how scared he was of dying until he stood on the brink.

Rossi pulled back a little ways and looked up into his eyes. He brushed a bit of hair off of Spencer’s face.

“You’re here. You’re okay.”

Damn profiling. Not that Spencer minded the reassurance. He nodded.

Rossi took a seat on the edge of Spencer’s bed. He picked up a styrofoam cup with a straw, which Spencer allowed him to guide into his mouth. 

“It’s good to see you awake,” Rossi said as Spencer drank. He put the cup back on the nightstand when he was finished.

“How long?” Spencer spoke for the first time.

Rossi glanced at his lap.

“Four days. You really scared us.”

Spencer dropped his gaze. 

“The UnSub?”

“Killed in the fall.”

Spencer nodded. Rossi touched his arm.

“Hey, you seen this?”

Spencer followed Rossi’s gesturing hand to a table overflowing with flowers, cards, and even balloons.

“Wow.”

Rossi smirked.

“Yeah, most of those are from Garcia.”

Spencer smiled.

“I’m not surprised.”

“They’re itching to see you. You up for that?”

Spencer frowned.

“Can I wait a little while?”

Rossi chuckled lightly.

“That’s fine, kiddo. You wanna go back to sleep?”

“Not yet. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. What is it?”

Spencer shifted, embarrassed.

“Before the ambulance came, did you call me James?”

Rossi’s smile fell.

“What?”

Spencer squirmed again.

“You were telling me to keep my eyes open and you... you called me James.”

Rossi looked at the floor.

“You remember that?”

Spencer thought about retracting his question. It was obviously making Rossi uncomfortable. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Who’s James?”

Rossi looked back up at Spencer with a sad smile on his face.

“When Carolyn and I were still married, we had a son, James.”

Spencer felt that then may have been a good time to drop the subject, but he pressed on despite himself.

“What happened to him?”

Rossi’s eyes were distant.

“He had a heart defect. We didn’t know until after he was born. Carolyn and I got an hour with him before...”

Rossi trailed off.

Spencer felt awful for making his friend relive such a tragedy.

“I’m sorry.”

Rossi nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“He would have been about your age, now,” he said. Rossi looked at the floor, and muttered, “I guess serial killers aren’t the only ones who create surrogates.”

Oh. Now it all made sense. Spencer looked down at his lap. Rossi saw him drop his eyes and, realizing his mistake, turned to face him.

“Spencer, look at me.”

Spencer met his eyes.

“You’re not just a surrogate. I don’t love you just because you remind me of James. You remind me of James because I love you. You’re like a son to me and it’s because of that that I let myself give into the fantasy every now and then. I would still care about you if James were still alive or he had never existed.”

Spencer looked back down as tears stung at his eyes. Losing the battle to keep them back, he smiled up at Rossi.

“I love you, too.”

Rossi returned his smile.

“C’mere, kiddo.”

Rossi carefully lifted Spencer’s upper body off the bed and tucked him against his chest. Spencer hugged him back, hindered slightly by the lines connected to his arm. Rossi cradled the back of his head and kissed his hair.

After a long moment, Rossi laid him back down.

“I think I’m gonna go back to sleep, now,” Spencer said.

Rossi sat back in his chair.

“Okay. Good night, kiddo.”

Spencer closed his eyes but furrowed his brow.

“It’s morning.”

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

Spencer drifted off smiling.


End file.
